


Parlay

by JustaMinuet



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst, Demonic Possession, Drama, Drama & Romance, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-28 21:12:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13912302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustaMinuet/pseuds/JustaMinuet
Summary: Dealing with personal demons is sometimes a very literal thing for Finn and Seth.





	Parlay

The first thing Seth noticed was that the atmosphere felt different. Heavier, colder, sharper. Like something was nipping at his skin, causing it to itch. He hadn’t felt this way at a Raw show in a long time, and it put him on edge. He tried to chalk it up to Royal Rumble post jitters. Rationalized it as him being worried for Jason’s unknown future. He wouldn’t entertain the notion of anything more than that. And he definitely wouldn’t tell Finn how he felt.

Finn, who believed in things that couldn’t be seen. Finn, who would sometimes close his eyes, and listen to the wind like it was speaking to him. Finn, who treated Irish folklore like history, instead of fairy tales.

Finn, who had made a deal with a devil of a far more literal nature than Seth ever supposedly had. And reluctantly, after facing off with it, Seth actually believed that.

If Seth told Finn about his bad feeling, the Irishman would no doubt call it a bad omen, and have his head on a swivel all night. Honestly, Seth simply didn’t want to deal with an agitated Finn, and definitely didn’t want to be the cause of it. Not over something that was probably nothing more than exhaustion. So, he simply kept his mouth shut, and tried to ignore the unease that had settled firmly into his chest.

Half an hour from arriving, Seth felt like his cautionary silence was somewhat vindicated, when Jason confided in him that after seeing a doctor, it had been confirmed that he’d need neck surgery, sooner rather than later. Seth had had a dark suspicion that Jason’s injury was worse than anyone wanted to admit. And with how they were booked at the Rumble the night before, with Seth doing all the work to protect Jason, he wasn’t surprised at the news.

Seth felt somewhat guilty at the sense of relief that came to him. He told himself that it was only because of the stress he had built up since arriving for the show; those voices in the back of his head telling him that it wasn’t simply paranoia. With Jason’s announcement, he convinced himself that that was why he had been walking on eggshells, simple as that. He knew this was coming, and now that it had finally arrived, he could relax.

“I’ll miss Mania because of this,” Jason muttered, and those words felt like ice water down Seth’s back, and his focus immediately went to his partner.

The situation hit too close to home, and he instinctively put his hand on Jason’s head, patting it like one would a sad child. “It’s gonna be okay.”

The words rang hollow, and he knew it. So did Jason, but Seth could tell younger man appreciated them all the same.

“There’s next year, right?” Jason asked, a wobbly smile on his face. “Maybe I’ll come out all in gold, and set stuff on fire, like some extra asshole I know.”

Despite himself, Seth grinned. “Maybe. Good luck topping me, though.”

Jason laughed a little, managing a half hearted shrug. “Maybe… Maybe I’ll be back with Chad by then. I miss Chad.”

There was a tone in his voice that sounded awfully familiar to Seth, but he decided not to pry. He wasn’t much for butting into other people’s business. He barely liked to think about his own, sometimes.

The two of them parted ways then, with Jason wanting to tell a few other friends on the roster, and Seth just trying to find out what he was going to be doing for the night. RAW plans were always done so last minute, with post pay-per-view shows being even more helter skelter. It wasn’t unusual for a script to be changed with less than an hour before show time.

Even with the usual confusion over an after Rumble booking, Seth was still surprised –and somewhat offended– when he was told he wasn’t on the show, at all. He could understand no match, since they were still struggling to figure out what to do, now that Jason was officially on the injured list, but to not even be given a backstage segment? Seth was indignant. And while talking about his worries wasn’t something he was comfortable with, talking about something that made him angry? That was right up his alley. Seth Rollins could rant better than anyone that wasn’t named Miz, and oh, how he wanted to.

And Finn was always the perfect listener. Seth could go on a twenty minute tangent that even he wasn’t quite sure he had a point for, and Finn with his magic patience would pay attention the entire time. Sometimes Seth questioned if he deserved that sort of kindness, but he’d be damned if he didn’t need it at the moment. And maybe he just wanted to see Finn, period, because he had a feeling that just being around the Irishman would calm him down a bit. It always did.

Since he didn’t see him in catering or any of the expected hallways by hair and makeup, Seth popped his head into the locker room, only to find that Finn wasn’t there, either.

Confused, he texted him, while backtracking to catering.  _Where are you?_

Surely, Finn wouldn’t have left. Couldn’t have. They drove in together tonight, and there was no way Finn would just take off with their car, not saying a word. Even if Finn had carpooled with Luke and Karl, he would’ve told him if he was leaving. Finn was too responsible and considerate to do otherwise. He’d know Seth would worry if he didn’t.

And Seth  _was_ beginning to worry. Finn vanishing without a trace was unusual, unless he was having  _issues_. Issues that typically meant some hundreds of years old pain in Seth’s ass wanted to have a night out on the town, and Finn was holed up somewhere trying to get control back. If that was the case, Seth was going to somehow track him down, and rant anyway. Because as much as he hated Bálor, the demon king hated him back. Respected him, surprisingly, but was definitely no fan.

It scared the crap out of Seth. Made him practically nauseous sometimes. Once, Seth had woken up in the middle of the night to his possessed boyfriend, skinned marred like soot, and eyes blacked out, clinging to their bedroom wall, staring at him with his head at an unnatural angle. All the horror movies that Seth had loved to watch growing up did nothing to prepare him for that, and the expletives that left his mouth upon the sight were creative even for him. Bálor had found it hilarious.

So, in order to stop his heart from exiting through his mouth, Seth had begun to talk to it. He had no idea if it knew English. Maybe it only spoke Gaelic, or Irish, or whatever it was. Hell, maybe it only spoke Latin, or some other dead language. Which would’ve been fitting, since Seth had really wanted it dead at the time. And he had gone from being terrified, to being livid because his pride wouldn’t let him be anything else. He looked the demon king in its bottomless eyes, and told him to fuck off, and stop clawing up the nice paint job on the wall. Before Bálor could say anything (and Seth had been sure that it probably would’ve been a threat to his life), Seth kept going. Didn’t this demon realize that Finn needed to be up at four in the morning, so that they could catch a flight? Finn wasn’t a morning person to begin with. Didn’t it know that it was the dead of winter, and that Finn hated the cold? It was using Finn’s body, and he only had trunks on. Finn wasn’t a demon, he’d get sick. Did it want an exhausted and ill host on its hands? Was that what it wanted? Because that was what it was going to get.

Whether it was due to guilt (which Seth had sincerely doubted), or just because it didn’t want to hear Seth’s rambling anymore, the demon king had slipped to floor, and silently climbed onto the bed. The animalistic movement, along with the charred-like flesh suddenly being so close, made Seth jolt back, hitting his head on the backboard of the bed. Bálor had snickered, but then unceremoniously released Finn, who had collapsed on the mattress, soundly asleep.

That was the only time the demon had made a middle of the night appearance for Seth, but unfortunately, not the only time Seth had a run in with it. It showed up at other instances, normally if Finn was extremely stressed about something. And each time, Seth would talk. A lot. He knew that Bálor was probably aware of how nervous he was around it, but like hell was Seth Rollins going to run away from his own boyfriend. He had his dignity. He also had the ability to prattle on incessantly, until the demon was so fed up with him, that he’d let Finn back out just to not have to listen to him anymore. Seth had once idly wondered why Bálor never flung him across the room. Finn had chuckled, “Part of our deal. Can’t hurt who I care for.” That had been comforting, if a little embarrassing. Sometimes being reminded by Finn that he loved him in any way made Seth feel like he was a stupid kid again.

More anxious now, Seth sent another text.  _Babe, talk to me._

Still no answer.

Seth didn’t bother to continue his walk to the catering area. If Finn really was trying to calm Bálor down, he’d do it far away from everyone. Finn would find some place dark and secluded. Some place where he could make noise, and not be heard. So, Seth spun around, and tried to locate the basement stairs as quickly as possible. Surely, that would be the best spot to go.

He frowned as he made his way to the bottom of the steps. Yes, Finn would probably curl up in some shadowed corner, but usually arena basements were fairly well lit. This place was dim at best, which was odd. It wasn’t until Seth’s feet touched the basement floor, and he heard the telltale sound of glass crunching, that the situation made itself known. More than half the fluorescent tube lights were broken, shards scattered dangerously on the ground.

“Dammit,” Seth swore. It wasn’t a good sign, but at least he was in the right place.

So, if this meant Bálor was already out, and it probably did, there was no reason to do this gently.

“Hey, asshole! It’s your favorite person, come to ruin your night,” Seth called.

Silence greeted him, and for one nerve wracking minute, Seth wondered if he was going to look up to see the demon king hanging from the ceiling, waiting for him.

“Ya… ya know,” a voice, tight with strain, said from the recesses of the room, “ya usually don’t ruin my nights.”

“Fucking hell.” Relief poured through Seth, and he followed where Finn’s voice came from, only to stop dead in his tracks when he finally saw him.  _“Fucking hell.”_

Finn was huddled on the floor, backed into a corner. His legs were bent, knees to his chin, and his hands clawed at the ground. He was breathing hard and quick. His skin tone was still natural, but pallid and slick with sweat, and when he looked up, Seth could see the blackness creeping along the whites of his eyes.

Taking a breath, Seth knelt in front of Finn, reaching out to wipe the sweat off of Finn’s face. “Babe, don’t take this wrong,” he said, trying to sound lighthearted, “but you look like shit.”

A small smile graced Finn’s lips, before he winced. “Yeah, I’ve had better nights.”

“Stay with me,” Seth coaxed. “What’s going on? How do we fix it?”

“You can’t,” Finn laughed, and it sounded unusually cold. “It can’t be fixed.”

“Anything can be fixed,” Seth said. It felt weird for him to be the one to give the pep talk. It was always Finn who was the positive one. But Seth would take this on, if it meant making Finn feel better, and staving off an angry demon. “You taught me that. We’ll figure it out, somehow.”

Finn leaned back against the wall, and with a frustrated groan, placed his hands on his face for a moment. Seth caught a flash of claws, before Finn put his hands down and hid them from sight. He didn’t hide his eyes though, and the darkness kept threatening to engulf the pale blue that Seth loved so much.

“I have a match with Cena tonight,” Finn said, sudden. “For an Elimination Chamber spot.”

“Oh,” Seth said, no quite connecting the dots to this statement. He remembered when Finn first told him about the company’s plan to book him into the Chamber match. He’d been so excited to get the opportunity to show what he could do. “Okay?”

“I’m booked to lose it,” Finn clarified.

“Wait,” Seth frowned. “Wait. What? Why? The fuck does Cena need an Elimination Chamber spot for? That’s your spot.”

**“I know it’s my spot!”**  Finn snarled, and his voice dipped to an octave that wasn’t natural for him.

_Not helping, asshole,_  Seth thought.  _Okay, okay. Do better._

Being told tonight that plans had changed, and Finn was going to have to lose his place to Cena clearly wasn’t going over well. Finn probably took the news professionally, then immediately came down here before Bálor’s fury could get to someone. Finn was too competitive to not be angry at something like this. No, he was definitely more than angry. Seth knew. He knew, because he’d be the same way. To have something he wanted, something he deserved be taken away without any warning? Finn was infuriated. Unfortunately, Finn being furious meant a certain demon got an opportunity to come out and play. Which just could not happen, especially if the company was expecting Finn to go out there in a couple hours, and not tear Cena apart in the literal fashion.

“Finn. Babe,” Seth rubbed the other man’s arms, “they’re gonna have a plan for you. Something’s gonna come up. The fans fucking love you. They won’t be dumb enough to keep you off of the pay-per-view.”

“They’ve done it before,” Finn pointed out, but he was taking slow breaths, clearly trying to calm himself. “I’m not  _over_ , remember?”

“The fuck you’re not,” Seth scoffed. “They’re not dropping you from the card, Finn. People would lose their minds. They put you in the Rumble for almost an hour. They wouldn’t have done that if they weren’t planning something.”

“Plans change here on a whim,” said Finn.

“Point. But at this time of year, they know who they want and where. They want you. They’re giving you a shitty deal tonight, but it’s probably more to do with them trying to book Cena than anything to do with you. They’re scrambling with him right now. You’ll get your spot. And hey,  _you’re_ at least on the show tonight,” Seth quipped. “I’m not. So, you have something more than I do.”

Finn blinked, confused. “Why are you not on the show?”

For a moment, Seth felt bad making this about himself, when Finn was the one who needed comfort. But one look at Finn’s concerned face made him think that maybe distracting him was the correct route to take. “Jason’s going on the injured list tonight. So, no immediate story for me right now. I’m just kinda in limbo, I guess.”

The smaller man frowned. “So, they’re just putting you to the side? And Jason’s Chamber spot is vacant, but I still lose mine?”

Seth could hear the pitch change at the end of Finn’s words, and it made him nervous. So, he played it off. “It’s not that bad, really. It’s good to have the night off, especially after being in two matches in a row last night, right? And Jason’s Chamber spot is…” his voice trailed, words failing him.   
When Finn’s serious expression darkened, Seth sighed. “Yeah, I’m annoyed, too. Yeah, it doesn’t make any sense. Yeah, the bookers have fucked up. Again. Yeah, it’s bullshit.  
“But, it’s only a bump in the road. I’m Seth Rollins, and they’re not gonna have an Elimination Chamber without me. And you,” he jabbed Finn’s chest with his index finger. “You’re Finn Bálor, and they’re sure as fuck not having an Elimination Chamber without you.”  
Seth leaned in, pressing his forehead to Finn’s. “They need us, and they know it. The company can scramble to put their favored sons in the top spots all they want, but they know who brings the big matches out. Who tears the damned houses down. That’s us. That’s always been us. There’s not a damned person in this place that doesn’t know it. Just wait and see. Next week, they’re gonna have us all nice and booked somehow. That empty Chamber pod has your name on it already, I bet. And I’ll… I’ll have something. Probably.”

“We’ll get you into the match,” Finn murmured, grinning. “Let’s share a pod.”

“Wouldn’t that be a sight?” Seth chuckled.

“It would be a nice view,” Finn replied, pushing Seth away a bit. Even with the light muted, Seth could see blessedly clear blue eyes.

“Feeling better?”

Finn nodded. “Yeah. I’m still not happy about this, and Bálor’s definitely still upset, but he’s quieting down. Enough to get myself back together. Ya know,” he tilted his head, amused, “it’s rather different having you be the one with the supportive speech.”

“Yeah, I know,” Seth grimaced. “That felt weird, not gonna lie. How’d I do?”

Finn’s grin became a full smile. “Pretty good, for an amateur. Needs work.”

“Oh, sorry,” Seth put his hands up. “I’m still new at this, you see. How do I improve, oh master of positive reinforcement?”

“Well, for starters,” Finn folded his arms across his bent knees, eyes alight with mischief, “you can not mention things that make the matter worse.”

“Well, maybe,” Seth scoffed, “you can tell your stupid roommate to stop being so sensitive about everything.”

Finn looked off to the side a moment, and Seth was sure the demon king was telling him something not so pleasant. At this point, he didn’t care. As long as Finn wasn’t losing himself to Bálor tonight.

Finally, Finn shook his head, still smiling. “Also, there was no comforting kiss, and quite frankly? A rookie mistake.”

“Oh,” Seth felt his heart jump, and he bent closer to Finn, lips ghosting over his. “Oh, that I can fix. Tell me how I do, okay?”

Usually, Seth kissed with force, and with heated passion. But this time, he went slow and gentle. He allowed Finn to dictate the pace, and it seemed that Finn was content in taking his time and savoring, if his hand suddenly wrapping Seth’s hair around itself was any indication. That more than suited Seth, and he pushed Finn up against the wall, so he could sit in a more comfortable position. He settled himself between Finn’s legs, and the smaller man groaned into his mouth at the new arrangement.

Truthfully, Seth would’ve been happy to stay where they were for the night, wrapped up in each other. But someone would come looking for them sooner or later, and he had no idea how to explain why most of the basement lights got busted.  _“So, you see, my boyfriend is a host for a demonic entity, and sometimes it comes out and breaks things when he’s angry.”_  No, that would not work. They needed to go back upstairs before they got caught.

Seth pulled away, reluctantly. “We should go before someone realizes we’re missing.”

Finn pouted, but gave him a nod. “You’re right. Could get awkward otherwise.”

“What? I’m sure lots of people on the roster have angry Irish demons possessing them, and breaking shit,” Seth smirked, standing up, and offering Finn a hand.

Laughing, Finn took the outreached hand, and stood. “I honestly have no idea how I did that,” he said, pointing to the strewed glass around the room.

“Eh,” Seth shrugged. “Fluorescents are bad for your eyes, anyway. C'mon.”

He started walking to the stairs, careful not to step on any of the larger pieces of the broken bulbs.

Seth had just begun his ascent, when Finn said, “We could feud.”

Seth’s head spun to him. “What?”

“We could feud,” Finn repeated. “They have nothing for me, whether they put me in the Chamber match, or not. I’m not winning it, we both know that. And with Jason out, what are you doing? Nothing. We could feud.”

Those three words. They’d said them before. Sometimes joking, other times serious. They could do it, and they’d steal the show in the process, they knew that. But the company always had other plans, mainly for Seth. And there were always those worries about something wrong happening again. Maybe something even worse than what had originally happened. Worries that were, not surprisingly, all Seth’s. Finn had dismissed them ages ago, and was doing his best to slowly whittle away Seth's fears.

And here they were, with the timing, the possibility…

“We could ask,” Seth finally said, the idea turning in his brain more and more, as it struck him that this could actually be a reality for once, instead of a passing conversation.

“We’ll convince them,” Finn told him, grabbing his hand. “We’re the best options for each other.”

“Well, obviously,” Seth joked, but sobered up quickly when he saw the intensity on his boyfriend’s face.

He understood. This wasn’t just about the Elimination Chamber. WrestleMania was just around the corner. The first one that Finn would make, and there was no way that he wanted to be thrown into something like the André Memorial, or something else that would most likely be on the pre-show. Finn wanted to be at Mania proper, and he wanted the best match possible for it. Seth’s chest tightened at the thought that Finn believed he’d be that match. And he would be. He’d take himself to the breaking point, if necessary. They’d make that crowd want to live and die for them.

“Let’s do it,” Seth nodded, squeezing Finn’s hand. “We’ll talk to the bookers. Maybe I’ll talk to Triple H. He’ll listen, and he likes us”

Excitement lit Finn’s eyes, and Seth could practically feel his eagerness. “We’ll make them see.”

_Yeah_ , Seth thought, as they walked up the stairs. They would make them see. All of them. They’d show how it was a mistake to book them like afterthoughts. To treat them like they were lesser. They were the best the damned company had. They were the Demon King, and the Kingslayer. And no matter where they fell on to the WrestleMania card, they were going to be the main event.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a very sweet friend over on tumblr. If you're interested in following my writing blog over there, it's under the name prosenpowerbombs. Hit me up!


End file.
